Puppy
by aboh
Summary: There were times young Sasuke were uncertain of his brother. Itachi had to take the matter into his own hand... in a subtle way.


Part: 1/1  
Pairing: If you search for it hard enough, you may see Uchihacest. Otherwise, no.  
Warning: Itachi vs a puppy, no pun intended  
Disclaimer: Naruto and its characters do not belong to me.

A/N: Since I'm on the writing train, I get this out before I forget it. Since I'd like to know what you think, reviews are appreciated.

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When Sasuke was six years old, he had his first pet, a puppy he'd saved on his way back from school. It was raining by the time he walked by the miserable thing tucked in a trap unintended for animals. Pitied, he tried to take the trap off, bleeding his fingers at the first attempt but succeeding at the second. He plucked the trembling puppy from the pile of gathering mud and put it inside his shirt to keep it warm.

His father left his tea untouched at the sight of him to his room, presumably for some paperwork. One of his mother's delicate eyebrows lift when he smiled broadly and showed her the puppy, a ball of black, white and red which moaned fitfully until now. His brother didn't look at him, pale fingers in the still action of cupping his teacup.

"It will die." Itachi touched the cup's rim with his lips.

Deep in the bottom of his young heart, Sasuke knew Itachi was always right but at that moment, a doubt crept in. The puppy just hurt a front leg, his mind reasoned. He'd seen plenty of ninjas who still lived after stumbling through the front door of his house with a gap in their stomach larger than his palm. His mouth quivered, the words bursting out before he could catch them.

"No, a wounded foreleg can't kill it!"

His mother chided him quickly for his manners and shooed him off to the bath. He walked away with the puppy clutched in his hands, missing the way his brother's hands clenching around the cup just a fraction tighter.

Sasuke washed the puppy before he washed himself. When the water turned red, he realized he was the one who bled more. He cleaned them up as best as he could and stepped out with a wet hair and an even wetter hand. His mother bandaged them both, the puppy crying more than he did but it was fixed at last. She said it would heal. He beamed up at her -- for once, he trusted his mother than his brother.

For the next few days, as soon as school ended, Sasuke eagerly ran home to check on the puppy. He did it again after he finished his solitary training, happy even though his shurikens starting to miss the targets with his right hand wrapped in bandages, not longer white but blossoming red. Both his father and brother ignored his presence completely but he didn't feel lonely. At night, the darkness no longer threatened him. Curling curled around the white gray ball, he slept, warm and content, his ever need to crawl into Itachi's bed with his fearful eyes and a pillow in his arms forgotten.

By the third day, the puppy started hopping around on three legs. A smile split his face and since no one shared his joy and spoke to him, he talked to the puppy, his friend now because it didn't say 'That's an Uchiha. He must be great' and it paid attention to him with curious brown eyes and furry ears.

On the fifth day, when he returned from school, he saw Itachi sitting on his bed. It felt odd because he didn't remember if Itachi ever did that. Itachi's hair was down, his face titled sideway towards something on his bed. In a startle, he caught the sight of gray and white under Itachi's fingers, his breath catching in his lungs but he didn't know the reason.

"Brother..."

Itachi didn't acknowledge his presence, his hand running slowly on the white patch of the puppy's neck, almost tenderly and affectionately. He looked at Itachi's hand, fascinated.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been standing there, staring until Itachi removed his hand from the puppy and waved him near. Confused, he stepped forward until he was at a safe distance always maintained between them when parents were there. In the next instant, Itachi's hand was around his neck and he was tossed on the bed. Legs hanging off, he choked a bit, eyes blurring with unshed tears, pupils dilating in response to the sheer physical pain and Itachi relented his grip.

When he could breathe properly again, Itachi's hand had been caressing the skin of his neck, index finger applying pressure experimentally at the pulse. Itachi's face showed no emotions. Sasuke didn't know what game his brother was playing. From his position, however, Itachi dominated his vision completely and once again, he remembered how everything about Itachi seemed perfect, even the hand around his neck, larger and more callus than he remembered. His brother could be wrong sometimes but he still loved and worshipped Itachi. Sighing, he leaned into Itachi's hand and closed his eyes. By the time he opened his eyes again, Itachi seemed never there, but the hand stayed, burning hot around his neck, revealed in the shape of five finger bruises. He wore high-collared tops for the next few days. No one noticed the change and Itachi didn't speak to him at all.

Before the puppy could walk slowly on the wounded leg, Sasuke had asked her to keep the puppy with him while he was doing the dishes. She agreed. On the next day, Sasuke ran straight into his room from training as usual but he did not find the puppy sleeping peacefully on his pillow as expected. After three hours of searching, he found it in the wine cellar.

Dead.

From its position, he guessed it'd fallen off the stairs and broken its neck. Taking the cold form in his hand, he pressed his face into it and cried his eyes out, its lifeless brown eyes the unwashed glass of the old window, its tongue lolling from its open mouth, purple.

"Why? Why do you leave me alone?"

He didn't stop crying even after he was upstairs. It was around dinner time but he didn't see father and mother, just Itachi seating alone with a steaming cup of tea around his hands. His heart clenched as he suddenly remembered what Itachi'd said, and realized that the only person in the world who was always right was Itachi, not his mother.

But oh, the truth still hurt because he'd lost his first friend who ever saw him for what he was. He was alone all over again.

"Brother... it's... it's... gone."

Itachi turned towards him either too slowly or too quickly to detect that he'd moved at all. "Foolish little brother. do you want it to survive in an unsightly way, always suffering and fearing of its impending death?"

And his cry was renewed, ripped out of his throat. With hot tears dripping down in rivulets, he said 'yes'.

Years later, when his bleeding form was lifted up by his neck wrapped by Itachi's fingers -- mercilessly choking the life out of him -- Sasuke briefly wished that he'd said 'no'


End file.
